


Odium

by bluejoseph



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Drug Use, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, High School, M/M, RIP, Smoking, TOPFL January Challenge, Teenagers, Weed, alcohol use, lotta swearing oops, this fic makes me look like a cool hip teen trademark but i never leave the house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 17:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17532689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejoseph/pseuds/bluejoseph
Summary: Every young adult hates at least one of their peers by default, and the peer Josh Dun hates is Tyler Joseph.





	Odium

**Author's Note:**

> i believe in the strong use of commas, but grammarly does not

Josh Dun hates Tyler Joseph. Really, ask anybody. Well, maybe not anybody, but we'll get to that later.

College is one of the worst ideas ever put forward by mankind, right up there with high school, middle school, and those shoes that are already shaped like feet. More than that, it's a recipe for disaster—specifically, rage, and everything it brings. Whoever thought putting a bunch of young adults in a room and expected them to get along was a fucking moron. I mean, seriously.

Every young adult hates at least one of their peers by default, and the peer Josh Dun hates is Tyler Joseph.

Tyler is one of those people that, if he went to heaven, the angels would forget all about God and trip over themselves worshiping him. It certainly seems that way in high school; Tyler is the most popular guy there. Star of the basketball team, good grades, even better looks. The majority of the girls—and some of the guys—practically fall over their feet trying to get Tyler to so much as glance in their direction. 

Sounds like every prom king ever, right? Wait. It gets worse. 

He's actually a really nice guy.

Finding a young adult that's a smart, gorgeous sports star usually isn't that hard, but finding a nice one? Practically fucking impossible. And yet, Tyler Joseph exists. 

When some freshman trips in the hallway, Tyler stops to help them up. If someone needs homework help, Tyler is first to volunteer. Even the surliest, oldest, most crusty-ass teachers like Tyler, because he turns in his work on time and helps them out now and then after class. The whole school pretty much kisses the ground he walked on.

Except for Josh Dun, obviously.

Josh has given up trying to explain why he hated Tyler with such a passion a long time ago. It isn't jealousy; Josh is pretty okay with who he is, a rarity for a teenager. He likes himself and his life decent enough—his parents are still together, his siblings are pretty cool, he gets good grades, and he has not-too-shitty friends—there isn't anything he really has to complain about.

Tyler Joseph, however, is the exception. God, Tyler is always the exception to everything. It drives Josh nuts.

Anyone who knows Josh knows how much he hates Tyler—his parents, his siblings, his teachers, most of the school. 

One of Josh' s friends, Brendon, is probably the only person who doesn't think Josh hates Tyler. Quite the opposite, honestly.

“It's a scientific fact that if you hate somebody for no goddamn reason, then you actually love them,” Brendon always proclaims once Tyler has passed them in the hallway. Josh always turns his scowling eyes towards Brendon, who always raises his hands in the air in a 'don't shoot the messenger' sort of way. Most of the time, he doesn't bother pointing out that Brendon's so-called scientific facts have literally no science behind it.

Dallon, Josh's other friend, usually just lets Josh rant angrily about Tyler as much as he wants. He doesn't seem to care one way or another how Josh feels about Tyler. “I stopped caring about most things a long time ago,” Dallon reminds Josh and Brendon occasionally when they act puzzled at his lack of reaction at things. If there was ever a personification of the term 'no fucks given', it was Dallon. He never gives a fuck about anything.

So, Brendon and Dallon both know about Josh's hatred for Tyler Joseph, regardless of their differing opinions on it (Brendon claiming that Josh's hatred was actually deep, unrequited love, and Dallon not really caring). The only person in Josh's life, probably, who doesn't know that he hates Tyler Joseph, is Tyler Joseph himself.

Josh could have let Tyler know how he hated him. He could have trashed Tyler's locker, spray-painted hateful messages on his car, or any other form of obvious hate, but that isn't Josh's style. He’s a silent hater, just glowering from the background. 

God, he hates him. Josh hates Tyler's stupid perfect grades and stupid perfect personality and stupid perfect face and stupid perfect body and stupid perfect smile.

Hate, right?

Yeah. Definitely hate.

 

*

 

Brendon—in addition to having horrible ideas about Josh's feelings—is also fucking crazy. 

Not, like, 'eating babies and sacrificing the neighborhood dogs to Satan' crazy, just really weird crazy. Thus, Josh isn't really that surprised when Brendon calls him at approximately one in the morning, just annoyed.

He'd fallen asleep with his phone in his hands—he'd been texting Dallon, probably, he couldn't quite remember—and so it rings right next to his face at full volume. Josh sits up groggily and grabs his phone, accepting the call. He knows who it is without having to check. “Brendon, what the fuck.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah, okay, I know it's like—I don't know the time, man—but Dallon and I are piss drunk and a little high, and we need a driver,” Brendon says quickly, getting straight to the point. He always talks even faster than usual when he’s under the influence.

“It's one in the fucking morning,” Josh states, too tired to think up any other reasons why this is a bad idea.

“We've both got the munchies and you know my mom, there's nothing in the fridge but—fucking boiled eggs, or some shit.” Brendon giggles into Josh's ear. “So we need you to drive us to Lucky's.”

“Lettuce,” Josh can hear Dallon chime in in the background. “Tomatoes. Raw carrots.”

Trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes with one hand, Josh tosses back the covers on his bed. “I can't believe I'm doing this.”

“So that's a yes?”

“Goat cheese!” Dallon shouts, and Josh can hear scuffling on the other end of the line, as if Brendon shoved him. “Dallon shut the fuck up, my mom'll hear you.”

“Fine, yes. But you're paying,” Josh adds as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants from the floor, phone crammed between his ear and his shoulder. “And you're getting me a bag of gummy worms or something.”

“Fair deal. See you in, like, fifteen,” Brendon says into the phone. Josh can still hear Dallon listing off food items as his friend hangs up.

He dresses quickly, throwing on a t-shirt and a hoodie to go with his sweatpants. Briefly, he considers brushing his hair before heading out but decides that it’s unlikely that he'll see any of his peers out and about at this hour.

The drive to Brendon's parents' house is short. Josh had planned to park on the end of the block and text his friend to let him know where he was, but instead, he finds Brendon and Dallon sitting on the street corner and holding hands. In addition to being hyper while high, Brendon also gets kind of clingy.

He's already midway through telling a story as he climbs in the backseat. “--and of course my dad was, like, through the roof. He was so pissed, I don't think he could've been any fucking madder--”

Dallon just nods his head from the passenger seat as Josh starts the car again. Neither one of his friends formally greets him, but he doesn't mind much.

This is how the drive goes. Josh is the one at the steering wheel, of course, half-listening to Brendon but mostly just staring at the bits and pieces of the world that his headlights illuminate. Brendon rants and rambles from the backseat, full of laughs and profane language and stories about his shitty parents. And then there's Dallon, sitting in the passenger cool as a cucumber, listening to Brendon's stories and nodding his head. Now and then, he'll say something, and when he does, Brendon giggles and snorts like it's the funniest fucking thing he's ever heard. 

When they get to Lucky's, Josh just wants to stay in the car, but he shouldn't let his friends loose like this, drunk and high as they are. Okay, Dallon would probably be fine, but he shouldn't leave him to look after Brendon by himself.

This results in Josh becoming the unofficial shopping cart; everything Brendon hands him—and he hands him a lot of things—he carries, while Brendon disappears to all corners of the store and Dallon just kind of meanders along. 

Josh is still exhausted, but he's awake enough sometimes to notice that the stuff in his arms started out as food but is now just whatever Brendon hands him. There's pretzel sticks and flaming hot Cheetos mixed up with tiny plastic forks and a cheese grater.

They linger for a while in the canned soup aisle, because Brendon can't decide if he wants beef stew or chicken noodle. Although, he's not trying very hard, because he's hanging all over Dallon; arms wrapped loosely around his neck, draping over his shoulders.

“Get off me,” Dallon complains, elbowing Brendon as best he can, and Brendon giggles into his neck. 

This is all getting a little weird to watch for Josh. “I'm gonna go get those gummy worms. Dallon, watch him, please.”

“Can't escape him, unfortunately,” Dallon replies with a poker face, and Brendon erupts into laughter again. Josh ducks into the next aisle, leaving his friends to themselves.

Naturally, this aisle is empty, save for Tyler Joseph himself.

Naturally, Tyler notices him.

The look Tyler gives him is one of casual recognition. Despite all Josh's inexplicable hatred, they don't really know one another at all. Honestly, they've probably spoken a dozen or so words to one another over the years.

Josh feels aforementioned inexplicable hatred rise up like the tide, but at the same time he doesn't want to be rude, so he just says “Hey.”

Tyler's looking at the gummy worms, of course, because this is some fucking teenage rom-com shit and things like this always happen in those types of movies. Josh doesn't want to be any more pissed off than he already is, so he just grabs the first bag of sour candy he sees and turns to walk away.

“Josh, right?” comes Tyler's voice, and Josh mentally curses him out. He turns around to face his enemy again. Tyler somehow manages to continue to look good even at one in the fucking morning, and Josh hates him for it.

“Yeah.”

Tyler glances at the bag of candy in Josh's hand. “You going to Mark's party?”

Mark happens to be one of Tyler's friends, a somewhat popular guy on the basketball team. Josh has seen him hanging around with Tyler a few times before.

Before Josh can say no, someone slings an arm over his shoulder loosely, grinning from ear to ear. Three guesses who it is, and the first two don't count.

“We're absolutely going,” Brendon says, and Josh's hatred is briefly directed somewhere else.

Tyler nods his head slightly. “Cool. See you there,” he says, glancing at Josh for just a moment before taking a bag of Sour Patch Kids from the shelves and heading off down the aisle.

Josh just watches him go. “Fuck you, Brendon.”

His friend giggles into his shoulder. “You wish.”

 

*

 

So, that's the story of how Josh wound up in Mark's kitchenette at two thirty in the morning.

Unfortunately, Brendon knew where Mark lived—he'd been to one of his parties before, although it was a while ago. Mark's apartment is tiny, too tiny for a party like this, where people are getting drunk and grinding on one another and throwing up into the kitchen sink.

Speaking of which. Brendon's spitting into said sink right now, and Josh decides now is a fine time to stand around awkwardly somewhere else.

It's not that Josh doesn't enjoy parties, he just has to be kind of drunk to do so, and he's the designated driver.

He considers hanging around in the corner where Dallon and a couple others are smoking weed, but decides against it, because weed isn't really Josh's thing. Eventually, he ducks down the hall towards the bathroom to take a piss, because he's had several cokes from Mark's fridge.

He thinks about staying in the bathroom for a while, but considering the amount of people vomiting their hard liquor is only going up, he thinks better of it. It's really only fate that, when he opens the bathroom door to reenter the party he doesn't even want to be at, he walks right into Tyler.

Well, he doesn't walk into him, exactly, but almost.

“Hey, man,” Tyler says, and offers him a flashing grin. It's obvious by the smell coming off of his clothes that he's smoked some pot, but either it hasn't hit him yet or it wasn't very much to begin with. 

“Hey.” Josh wants to duck down the hallway, but, really, he's going to be uncomfortable wherever he finds a place to linger at this party. He may as well do it here.

“Wild party, huh?” Tyler leans against the wall. He looks Josh over—no, it's his imagination. 

“Yeah.” 

There’s a pause that’s just a few seconds too long, and Josh is about to go see if he can find some sort of quiet corner where he can sit and scroll through his phone, but Tyler speaks up again. 

“You wanna, like.” He stops, nudges Josh’s shoe with his own. “Go out on the balcony with me?”

The first image that pops into Josh’s head is Tyler kissing him, surrounded by rusted railings and a couple of neglected plants. That’s what happens on balconies, right? In any case, that’s the first thing he thinks of, and he kinda hates himself for it. 

“Sure,” he says, against his better judgment. Fuck it all.

Tyler leads the way. The balcony is nicer than Josh thought, but a little smaller. The railing isn’t rusted, and the houseplants don’t seem neglected, but they might be fake. Josh leans against the surprisingly sturdy railing and looks down on the street below. There are several cars parked up and down the road, but no moving traffic. 

“Smoke?”

Josh allows himself to flick his eyes in Tyler’s direction. He’s got a lit cigarette between two fingers, and he’s not looking at Josh. He never thought Tyler the smoking type. He shakes his head and goes back to staring at the street.

Josh looks down like the pavement is trying to tell him something. Tyler looks out like there’s a secret written on the horizon.

“I like you, man,” Tyler says. Josh almost falls backward.

“You what?”

“You’re kind of cool,” he tries again, and Josh calms himself down. His heart is jumping all over the place and he doesn’t like it. “You don’t like, care what anybody thinks about you.”

Josh grips the railing a little tighter. “I mean, I guess.”

“I wish I could be more like that,” Tyler adds. His eyes look kind of distant as he takes a drag.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm?” He turns. Again, Josh feels like he’s looking him over. “Oh, yeah, man. Just sucks is all.”

Neither of them says anything for a few minutes, eyes cast elsewhere to avoid awkward eye contact. Josh wishes he were at home; he almost always wishes that.

“You’re kind of cute, too,” Tyler concedes. 

Josh’s stomach twists, in a good way. It should baffle him, that he’s not disgusted by the thought of Tyler finding him attractive, considering his long-standing hatred of him—but it doesn’t. 

Tyler takes another drag from his cigarette, and when he puts his arm back down, it’s just a little closer to Josh’s. He shifts his own arm to press up against Tyler’s after a split-second of thought.

“I don’t hate you,” Josh says, finally. It feels like untethering a boat from its mooring and letting it drift out to sea. Tyler grins at him, crookedly, openly.

And okay, fine, maybe it never really was hate in the first place. Whatever.

 

*

 

Josh drives Brendon and Dallon home soon after, dropping them off where he picked them up, and then heads back to his own house. He’s fortunate that his bedroom is on the first floor, and that his window isn’t too far off the ground. His parents are pretty heavy sleepers, anyway, so he doubts they noticed he was gone in the first place.

It’s a ridiculous hour of the morning when he finally climbs into bed, but he finds himself unable to sleep. He keeps thinking about the short conversation he had with Tyler, how simple and nice it was to be casually touching like they did. 

It’s weird for him, to be letting all these thoughts about Tyler go through. He’s shoved them away for so long that it became natural for him. It became less and less of a lie the more time went on.

A huge weight has finally been lifted from Josh’s chest. An hour passes. Josh sleeps.

 

*

 

Tyler is waiting by his locker in the morning. Josh walks with Brendon and Dallon, both of which seem to be dealing with hangovers. “I feel like trash,” Brendon whines as he walks, half leaning on his friends. He’s wearing the same thing as he did last night, and his clothes stink. 

“You look like trash,” Dallon says. Brendon smacks his arm.

All three of them stop when they see Tyler. He’s just leaning against Josh’s locker, staring off into the distance and looking bored. 

Immediately, Brendon shoves Josh in Tyler’s direction. “Go get your man, sweetie!” he calls as he follows Dallon to the bathroom. Josh flips him off.

Tyler has clearly heard their conversation, and he is clearly amused. He steps aside a little as Josh approaches, so he can get to his locker. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Josh isn’t sure how to talk to him yet, now that he’s sure he likes him. He grabs his chem book from his locker.

“I’d like to ask you to go on a date with me this weekend,” Tyler says. 

Josh slams his locker, startled, and scowls at Tyler’s smile. “Are you joking?”

His smile fades, replaced with confusion. “No?”

“I thought you were straight.”

“I’m bi, actually.” He shrugs slightly. “Just haven’t had a boyfriend yet. Unless you’re interested, of course.”

Josh doesn’t know what to think. He can’t think, in fact; not when Tyler’s looking at him like that. God, how had he ever thought he hated him?

“You can say no,” Tyler adds after Josh doesn’t reply.

“No,” Josh says. “No! I mean, yes. Yes, I’d like to go out with you.”

Tyler smiles again, and nudged Josh’s shoe with his own, and his heart melts, just a little bit. He hopes it will be the first of many times.

**Author's Note:**

> kinda flopped the ending but this has been in my drafts for months and i really needed to finish it


End file.
